First Meeting is the Beginning
by TamarawTinay
Summary: This is my version of how Gomez and Morticia first meet, which will lead to their marriage. It's not yet finished but well, I want to know your inputs :) I am already updating this, I am sorry for the delay. By the way, I edited a few things from the first chapter.
1. Chapter 1

"Happy birthday, darling," greeted a tall and slender woman with a strict face, although she was smiling, as she tossed her son a box untidily wrapped in a morbid red wrapper with black ribbon, from the boy's bedroom door.

"Mmm…" the boy merely grunted and pulled back the blanket over his head and put another pillow on top of it as he rolled over. The wrapped box rolled on his bed and nearly fell, until a disembodied hand came out of a box on his bedside table stopped the box from falling and sensibly put it on the table.

"Oh, come on, Gomez dear," the woman urged flopping down on the bed beside her son. "Oh, and thank you, Thing," she told the hand which seemed to bow before it scooted back to his box. The woman merely smiled and turned back to her snoring son.

"Gomez," she once again called. She removed the pillow and blanket over Gomez's head. "Dear?"

Gomez sighed and sat up to face his mother. He was not a boy after all – he was already a handsome young man. His hair was very sleek even if he just woke up, his eyes were hazel and sparkling – like his mother's, and just above his perfect lips was a thin mustache which curved upward as he smiled to his mother.

"Dreadful morning, Mother…" he sleepily said.

The woman took the package from the table and handed it to her son. "Happy birthday, dear," she said smiling at him.

Gomez tore open the wrapper and opened the box before letting out a whoop.

"Wow!" he exclaimed excitedly as he took out a very magnificent camera out of the box. "Thank you, Mother!" he cried hugging his mother.

"You're welcome," she replied kissing his forehead. "Dress up, there is a small feast for you downstairs. I cooked." She stood up and left, shutting the door with a fain click.

Gomez looked at his camera once more. Disregarding his mother's instructions, he leaped from his bed and went out his balcony to try his camera.

It was one magnificent camera! It can zoom so much that the mountain that was about five miles from his balcony seems only four kilometers from the camera.

He wanted to shoot right away but he soon felt his stomach grumble so he decided to leave his beloved camera on his bed and change clothes to leave for breakfast.

"What took you so long?" his mother asked as he sat down next to his brother who was oddly… odd. All the sleekness and suave looks of Gomez was flushed out from his brother – he was bald with dark, almost black circles under his eyes; he was round-shaped, very unlike Gomez who was athletically built. However, the most peculiar thing about him was the fact that there is a lighted light bulb in his mouth.

"Dreadful morning, Father, Fester," he greeted his father and brother before addressing his mother. "I was merely mesmerized by your gift, Mother."

"Really?" his mother asked as she started putting the food she had cooked on the table.

"'Small feast', Mother?" Gomez mockingly asked his mother with amazement to which his mother merely smiled.

"Speaking of gifts," spoke up Gomez's father. Gomez looked to his father, who handed him a box a bit larger than the one given to him by his mother. He unwrapped it eagerly and saw a vast number of films for his camera.

"Thank you, Father!" he exclaimed.

Then Fester removed the light bulb on his mouth which lost its light on the absence of his mouth. "For you," he said handing him a very big bottle containing some kind of liquid. Knowing Fester, it must be some chemical that can melt one's hand. But what's its purpose for him puzzled Gomez.

Confusion must have cursed on Gomez's face, because Fester said, "That is not a poison, Gomez. It's a liquid that will allow you to have a hard copy of the pictures you have taken."

"Ah!" exclaimed Gomez, amazed. "Thank you, Fester!"

"Do not mention it," Fester replied as he put back the light bulb in his mouth.

Breakfast seemed to have gone by in a flash for Gomez. He almost gulped his numerous food, took a swig of a morning juice then jumped off his seat, definitely surprising his family.

"What's the hurry?" his father asked as his son gathered the presents he received in lightning speed.

"I do not want to waste precious time," he replied shortly jogging away. Then a faint shout followed, "I want to try my new camera!"

It was already night when Gomez finally stopped using his camera. He already used twenty rolls of films and was about to load the twenty-first when his mother came right next to him.

"Camera-man," she said making him jump in surprise.

"Mother!" he exclaimed. "You gave me quite a fright!"

"Pardon me, son. But it is already night."

"I've noticed that, Mother," he replied loading his camera. "And isn't the night very beautiful? A perfect lighting for my pictures!"

"GOMEZ!" she cried stopping her son as he fidget once more with his camera. Just the raised eyebrow of his mother was enough for him to shut up.

"Yes, Mother?" he meekly asked.

"Finally, you paid attention," she replied. "You hardly ate your breakfast, you did not even had lunch nor any snack, and now, I will not allow you to have no dinner either. So, we are dining out, as an addition to your birthday celebration."

"Yes, Mother," he replied gathering his things. "I shall now return to my room and change."

"Yes," she replied.

* * *

><p>"Je vais avoir des escargots."<p>

This simple sentence rang to Gomez's ear like some venom injected to him. He nearly fell of his chair but prevented it with a loud sound – he banged his knee on the underside of the table. Many people looked at him, even the speaker of the sentence he heard, although he did not notice it because of the pain on his knee.

"Gomez, are you alright?" his mother asked.

"Son? Anything wrong?" his father asked.

"I'm alright," he hastily replied, returning to his seat. The he turned to Fester and whispered, "Who said that?"

"Who said what?" Fester replied as he stuffed his face with food gluttonously.

"Didn't you hear?" Gomez pressed on.

"Hear what?" his brother confusedly replied.

"Oh, nothing," he replied giving up. But the sentence kept on ringing inside his ear. _I have to find the woman who said that._

On the other side of the bistro, a very pale young woman clad in a tight black dress fingered one of her braids as she giggled slightly, which she covered with a cough.

The woman opposite her, a plump woman with graying hair, peered at her curiously, "Morticia?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Mama," the young woman named Morticia replied hiding a smile.

Her mother and father narrowed their eyes to their daughter but said nothing.

"What was that about?" Morticia's sister, Ophelia, hissed to her sister's ear.

"Oh, didn't you see?" Morticia asked in reply.

"See what?" Ophelia replied.

"That man over there," she replied pointing her index finger with a long finger nail painted blood red to Gomez who has his back facing Morticia. "He jerked and banged his knee on the underside of their table."

"Hmmm… and so?" her sister replied with puzzled expression.

"Nothing, I just found that amusing. Especially at the fact that it occurred after I spoke French. Must have been coincidence, I mean, how would he hear me?"

Ophelia smiled and shook her blonde curls. "You really do have a fascinating interest."

* * *

><p>Gomez stepped out of the second floor balcony and admired the view. Immediately, he took out his camera and started angling his camera on the view. However, there was a pearly white flash that caught his eyes from below. He looked down and saw a very enchanting creature sitting on a bench, apparently alone. The creature he saw was none other than Morticia.<p>

The full moon's light bathed Morticia perfectly that no flash was needed for Gomez to have a good shot of her. He started taking pictures of her.

Few moments passed by and Gomez finished up the fresh rolled he had loaded in his camera, he fumbled for another roll and reloaded the camera. Just in time when Morticia stood up and stared upward. Gomez gasped as he shoot her beauty once again.

"Darling?" a woman's voice rang from behind the shadows referring to Morticia.

"Yes, Mama?" Morticia replied swiveling to look at her mother; Gomez took another shot of her.

"We are going," her mother replied.

"Oh, I see…" she replied and moved to go.

Then, as Morticia neared the shadows, a flash of light came from Gomez's camera. The flash was automatically turned on because of the darkness! Gomez attempted to hide his camera but Morticia still saw it.

Morticia eyed Gomez curiously, just like when a feline looks at a tom. Then slowly, she smiled at him warmly. Gomez smiled as well, feeling mesmerized at her beauty.

Then Morticia's mother called again, and she was forced to leave.

"You seem pleased," Ophelia commented when the have reached their home.

"Me?" answered Morticia.

"Yes."

"Well, I saw this very handsome man at the bistro," Morticia replied.

"Oh, isn't Morticia dear in love?" Ophelia said.

"Pardon?" she questioned with every hint of surprise.

"Aren't you?" she once again asked.

"That is nonsense, Ophelia. I was merely attracted to him. Besides, he does not even show any hint of attraction to me, I am not that kind of woman," she replied with a slight hint of regret.

"So, indeed, I am right. You do love him, this man you saw," Ophelia triumphantly said. "Now you are nonsense, 'I am not that kind of woman'?"

"Well, I really am not," Morticia admitted.

"Nonsense!" Ophelia exclaimed. "Let me prove what I mean." She dragged her sister to her bedroom. "Sit," she pointed on her dresser, and Morticia did.

"I know you, faint make up does not suit you…" she said. Then Ophelia started applying dark eye shadow on Morticia's eyelids. Then she penciled her eyebrows. She stared at her sister for a while, then said as she handed her tissue paper, "Now remove that pale lipstick of yours. Your lips are too perfect for that."

Having no choice, she followed her and removed the lipstick on her lips. Then, Ophelia took out a lip liner, a lip stick, and a lip gloss, all in the ruby shade of red. She carefully applied everything on her lips and smiled at her creation.

"There seems to be something wrong," Ophelia said slowly. Morticia moved to turn and look at her face but her sister stopped her. "Oh, no, Morticia, do not spoil the surprise!"

Then she held her sister's braids. "Ah! I see," she murmured and removed the braids.

"Ophelia!" Morticia nearly cried. "What are you doing?"

"Just trust me, Morticia," was Ophelia's only reply. She took out a brush and ran it through Morticia's hair, from roots to tips several times. Finally, Ophelia took a step back and admired her sister with a nod of agreement. "You can now turn around."

And Morticia did. She gasped loudly.

"Ophelia! Is this really…?" Morticia asked.

"Is that really you?" Ophelia replied. "Yes."

Morticia stared at her reflection with admiration.

"Proven!" Ophelia said, and Morticia could not disagree.

* * *

><p>Gomez and Fester were having their own conversation inside Gomez's room as he develops the pictures of Morticia in the biggest photo paper.<p>

"You love her! Admit it!" cried Fester excitedly.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Gomez asked busily.

"You were supposed to be taking picture of the night, but your subject became the _woman_ of the night. You even used the whole roll of film with just that woman –"

"She is not _just a woman_. She is a magnificent woman," interrupted Gomez passionately.

"Do you hear yourself? 'A magnificent woman.' You are indeed in love with her!" Fester replied even more excitedly.

"I am simply enchanted by her gorgeous features – her pale skin, her black hair, her movements – ah! She is the dark angel!" contradicted Gomez. "And besides, she is not interested in me."

"Hoho!" cried Fester. "A woman, not interested in you? You are pulling my leg."


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Ophelia stood in front of the door for a long time. She fumbled nervously with the lace of her pristine white dress, hesitant about disturbing her sister. Finally, she plucked up the courage and knocked. A faint "Come in," responded and she opened the door to enter her sister's room. Despite the morning sun peeping through the tiny window, the room looked gloomy, there were numerous headless dolls sitting on the headboard of the bed, a skeleton hanging on its ankle by a noose behind the door, and a countless number of potions of different colors on the bureau.

Ophelia saw her sister Morticia sitting by the windowsill, reading a thick, old book. Her features were almost the same as Ophelia's that sometimes it perplex the both of them. One of the few differences between them is that Morticia has a raven hair while Ophelia is blonde. Morticia's clothing was usually a black tight dress and would never be seen wearing cheerful colored clothes.

Morticia looked up from her reading to study Ophelia's face.

"You look terrible, Ophelia," she said before returning to her reading.

"Your terrible or my terrible?"Ophelia asked.

"Your terrible, of course. That does not suit my terrible," Morticia replied without looking up from her book.

Ophelia sighed and sat on the foot of Morticia's bed. Morticia looked up from her reading and sat next to her older sister.

"Is there something wrong, Ophelia?"she asked. "The flowers on your head are falling."

"Today is my betrothal, remember?"she replied sadly, trying to return the fallen flowers back to her head.

"Oh, I completely forgot about that," she said. "Is there really nothing you can do to convince Mother to cancel your betrothal?"

"I wish, but Mother is… annoyingly insistent of this marriage!" she stood up and paced the room. "I do not want to be married to someone whom I barely know. I do not even know if I want to get married at all."

"Perhaps the man you are betrothed to is a charm," Morticia suggested.

"Perhaps not, then what now?" countered Ophelia. She ungracefully flopped back down next to her sister.

"What will you do then?" Morticia asked gently.

"I cannot let Mother down, not with all her expectations," she replied to which Morticia rolled her eyes at. "You are quite lucky Mother is not expecting much from you, Morticia."

"She does not even care about my existence."

"That is not true."

"Yes it is."

"No, it is not."

"Yes it is."

"Then why would she have you betrothed to a distant cousin?"

"Pardon?" she asked bewilderingly.

"You are to be wed with Cousin Baltimore," Ophelia said.

"Cousin Baltimore?!" she repeated incredulously. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"I believe it will be after my unfortunate marriage."

"But why?" Morticia almost whined.

"Tradition, she said when I asked her."

"But that is hardly reasonable," insisted Morticia. "I thought it was supposed to be the eldest daughter only."

"Welcome to my world," Ophelia grudgingly said.

Morticia sighed. "At least you get to get married first."

Ophelia scowled. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Bail out," her sister simply said.

"You know I can't, Morticia," she said. She stood up and paced the room.

"Of course, you can, Ophelia," Morticia replied. She watched her sister pace her room. Sighing, she walked in front of Ophelia and stopped her from taking another step. "Pacing the whole room will not give you any solution to your problem. You can bail out on this arranged marriage, but you won't."

Silence filled the room.

"Perhaps I just have to pretend I am ecstatic about this," Ophelia spoke up.

"Suit yourself, I won't," Morticia replied stoically. She paused to look at Ophelia's pained features. "I'm sorry, Ophelia. I cannot seem to help you."

"It's fine," Ophelia replied dejectedly before leaving Morticia alone in her room.


End file.
